Insight
by Original Max A
Summary: It's the soulgaze he's been waiting for with results he never could have expected. Time: Between Turn Coat and Changes. Harry/Murphy
1. Chapter 1

Nervousness. The emotional plague of lovesick teenagers, professional performers like my dad and me, the rough and tumble, zombie dinosaur-riding wizard who is about to ask a girl to look into his soul. I know it breaks the guy code of ethics to share my feelings with a woman, but it can't be helped.

A soulgaze, the process where a wizard can see your soul and you into his by locking eyes, is colored by who a person is, what they are looking for and their previous relationship with the person. I've done it about a half dozen times. Everyone's experience seeing the depths of my soul has been a little different… and equally disturbing. There has been fainting, screaming, a brief crack in the poker face of a hardened gangster, and an increased desire to jump my bones. The only thing I can get from that is my soul apparently does things in extremes, which is appropriate given who it belongs to. Still, the fact is I don't know what people see when they look at me and to do my next job without damning myself, I need to find out.

I got a package from The Gatekeeper this morning containing a note and a shield bracelet that I know, _I know_, belonged to my mother. The note, written in The Gatekeeper's immaculate cursive said one phrase, "**temet nosce". **My Latin sucks, but that phrase jumped out at me thanks to The Matrix. **Know thyself.** The Gatekeeper, as well as being one of the most enigmatic members of the Senior Council, was also a heavy hitter in the precognition department. He had pulled the mysterious note, cryptic message thing a few years back and it saved my life so when Obi-Wan said, "Jump." I listened.

Which brings us to Murphy. The kick-ass, short, cute blonde Valkyrie whose fight against the paranormal thankfully earned her the day off so she could to do me this favor. Murphy got to know me the old-fashioned way, through years of conversation, mutual interest and the occasional pyrotechnic supernatural adventure. She is, in a word, awesome. Her courage and intelligence makes her a warrior amongst men. Her willingness to tell me the truth about myself whether I want to hear it or not, makes her a friend. If anyone can handle telling me the good, the bad and the ugly about my soul, she can.

In general, I'm an okay guy. I pay my rent relatively frequently, shovel the stairway for the elderly couple that lives above me and shout expletives when I get cut off in Chicago traffic. In addition to that, once every few months, I save the world or at least my corner of it. You'd think that would be enough to get me by on my own merit, but as the saying goes "the sins of the father will be visited on the son" or in this case, the mother. My mom was involved in some pretty questionable stuff. Some of it involved the vampires, some involved demons and some involved the not-so-nice members of the fae, like my godmother. I still don't know it all, but what I do know is that there were circumstances that happened around my birth that either make me more susceptible to dark magic or will enable me to control/destroy dark entities. The line between controlling dark power and being controlled by it is practically transparent so I try not to touch it.

I'm not always successful.

Along with her silver pentacle, my mom left me some serious enemies and some equally unpleasant allies. Ever since I killed Justin, my original mentor who after teaching me the basics of magic tried to turn me into a soulless killing machine, there has been a part of me that has been attracted the dark side of magic. On a bad day, I'm still fascinated by black magic's potential and lack of rules or consequences that come with it. But I also know that what black magic lacks in consequences, it makes up for in cost with _damned_ high interest. If whatever is going to happen next will unravel the mystery of my mother, I've got to be prepared. I've got to know everything I can about myself so I don't destroy me.

My wards alerted me to Murphy's presence before she knocked on my door. I still waited after three knocks to answer to the door so at least I could look like I had been busy.

"Hey, Murph," I greeted, taking in her jeans and leather jacket. She looked like Jan Brady on a Harley.

She took off her glass and glared up at my forehead, "Before we do anything, Dresden, I want to remind you that this is my day off. If I end up back in the office for any reason, it's your ass."

The corners of my mouth quirked up.

Murphy rolled her eyes and walked past me into my apartment, "Stop it."

"What?" I asked innocently, closing the door behind her.

She turned to me, "I can see what you're thinking and I'm telling you now, stop."

"Now you're the wizard."

Murphy let out an annoyed sigh, "So what am I doing here, Harry?"

I picked up the note that The Gatekeeper gave me from its resting place on the table and handed it to her. She examined it and raised an eyebrow at me.

"It says _Know Thyself_. It also came with this. It was my mother's," I stated and handed her the shield bracelet.

Shock registered on her features before she took the bracelet with reverent care. She looked at the bands of silver, gold and copper crisscrossing the bracelet and turned to me.

"What's this mean?" she asked.

"I think it's a warning. Whatever is coming my way next, it involves my mom and I need to know the truth about what's going on inside of me if I'm going to survive it," I replied.

"You are who you decide to be. What more do you need to know?"

I quirked my head, "Ultimately, yeah. But family, experiences, friends, they help define us. Sometimes in ways we don't know or understand."

Murphy narrowed her eyes at me as the ideas clicked in her head.

"And you think I can help you figure out things that you don't already know about yourself," Murphy concluded, "How?"

"Well, chicks have a talent for this psychological crap," I stated.

Murphy shook her fist at me, "One day, Dresden, I swear."

My smile got wider. Murphy responded in kind and put her fist down.

"Seriously," I started, putting my hands up in mock surrender, "A soulgaze,"

I watched how she responded to the word, testing to see if she remembered the first time I tried to initiate one with her. She was the victim of a psychic attack at the time. I hated the demon that tortured her, but mostly I hated that had been too late to stop it from happening. I didn't want to her to remember it.

"Soulgaze?" she asked.

I let out a short breath of relief, hoping she didn't catch it.

"It's what happens when you look directly into a wizard's eyes for the first time. You see into his soul and he sees into yours," I said.

Murphy blinked, "Sounds intense."

"It is."

Murphy leaned toward me, "And how come we've never done this?"

I looked up toward her face while avoiding contact with her eyes, "You know why."

"Cause you've never looked into my eyes for more than a few seconds, less than," she said slowly.

I nodded.

Murphy considered me for a second, "You've done this before?"

"Yeah, plenty of times."

She eyed me, "And you can't get any of these other people to sketch your soul for you?"

"It's better when the memory's fresh and…" I trailed off.

"And what?"

I took a breath, "I trust you."

Murphy's gaze settled on the floor and the seconds ticked between us.

"If I do this," she said finally, "It means you'll see my soul too? Everything?"

She seemed, and I don't use this word lightly regarding Murphy, scared. I needed her to do this, but I promised a long time ago I would stop lying to her.

"Mostly, but I'm not looking for your secrets, Murph. I'll just get a general sense of who you are," I said as gently as I could.

"At my deepest level," she stated with caution lacing her words.

"At your deepest level," I agreed, " And you at mine."

Her eyes remained on the floor. I scratched behind Mouse's ears as we both waited.

She looked up, "Okay."

"Okay?"

Murphy nodded, "I trust you too, Harry. That's all there is to it. And I'm not gonna let you go into a fight unprepared if I can help it."

A grin forced its way to the surface as I gestured for Murphy to see next to me on the comfy, second-hand couch.

"Thanks."

She sat down.

"Just so know, any thoughts of you in a bikini is just biology and before you say it, Oink!"

She narrowed her eyes at me. "I hate you."

My grin got wider.

She groaned, "How does this Dresden mind meld start?"

"Like this," I said and took Murphy's hand like we've done a million times before when we were about to do something dangerous.

"Take a deep breath," I said, looking how Murphy's blonde locks ghosted across her face. She stared at our locked hands and I waited for her eyes to meet mine. She raised her head with the iron determination that she used to protect Chicago and in half of a breath, the soulgaze began.

I found myself in just outside of Murphy's old office in SI with a glass wall that allowed me to look inside. I wasn't surprised that she still thought of herself as the boss because for all intensive purposes, she was. The police officers of SI were a close bunch and the only reason why Special Investigations developed into a solid defense against the supernatural threats was because of Murphy. She took her job and her duty seriously even if her current assignment was supposed to be political Siberia.

The office was big and managed to be organized and cluttered at the same time. Mementos of a life and friends covered the walls and floor. The furniture was well worn, some with burn marks and the glass that surrounded her was cracked in several places, spider webbing across the surface. She was doing work at a huge mahogany desk with trophies and award covering the surface. An open closet filled with causal clothes; pant suits and one cute little red number I had never seen before was to her right side. She got up and started changing. I looked away, changing the angle that I was looking at her office.

Beside her desk was a locked file cabinet. I didn't try to open it, but they were clearly labeled. I recognized my name on one of the cabinets followed by Kincaid, her two ex-husbands and her father's name was at the bottom. Suddenly, a small pale shade of pink crossed my line of vision. I turn toward it and saw a little girl in her jean shorts and a t-shirt with pink pony on the back. She crawled to a spot underneath Murphy's desk and colored. I watched her diligently focus on her work and then took note of the bruises on her arm. I leaned in deeper, trying not to scare the girl. She suddenly turned to me. Her black eye shocked me out of the soulgaze.

I came back to myself and tried to process what I had seen in Karrin. Her eyes began to refocus a second after mine. She stared directly in to my face and then scooted quickly away.

"No," she said, going to grab her jacket, "Not you."

I got up, "What?"

She turned to me, "You're not gonna pity me, Dresden."

"Murph," I pleaded.

She pointed her finger at me, "Don't. Okay. Just don't."

She opened my door and left. Details that I had passed over during the soulgaze start filtering in. The office and the desk that I had seen had been much bigger than her old office in real life. The desk was big enough to hide things, lot of things, on purpose. Murphy has called me a chauvinist repeatedly. She's not wrong. For me, the instinct to protect and defend women goes bone deep, even if they are fully capable of kicking my ass. It's worse when I know the person. It's worse when I love the person. It's worse when it's kids.

Someone had hurt Karrin Murphy, my best friend, before she was capable to defending herself. Someone turned her youth against her and had stole her innocence. Someone needed to pay.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Don't own it. No money made. Just having fun

I'm a lucky man, evidenced by a few things. One, I'm alive. After all of mortal, immortal and semi-god beings that I have pissed off, trust me, my being alive is evidence that someone up there is smiling on me…not because he likes me, of course, but because he has a extremely sick sense of humor. Two, when necessary, I've got a solid group of people who I can depend on in a crisis. And three, Karrin Murphy is my friend.

After she left, I know I should have spent some more time on the Gatekeeper's warning. Maybe call Ramirez or one of the ParaNet to see if anything out of the ordinary was going on, but I couldn't.

In all the time that I've known Murphy, she has never run from me. She's seen me do terrible things. She has no illusions about what I am capable of. Hell, she probably knows my limits better than I do; that never scared her. But this, a hurt little girl inside her soul, sent her running for the hills and I didn't know why.

The first step in every investigation is to talk to those closest to the victim. Murph would shoot me if I ever called her a "victim", but the term is for the situation, not the person. There are two reasons why a detective (or investigator like myself) talks to the friends and family first. One, they are your most likely suspects. It is a fact that most victims knew their attackers. Second, the close friends and family give you the best idea of a person's behavior and lifestyle better than C.S.I. super science ever could. Especially when it comes to supernatural events. If I wanted to know what Karrin was like as a little girl, there was one person who I thought would talk to me. One person who I think likes and respects me enough to be honest with me. Murph would never forgive me, but I gathered up my courage… and called her mother.

"Hello," a sweet voice said over the phone after the second ring.

"Aaa, hi…Mrs. Murphy?" I asked, suddenly sheepish.

"This is she. May I ask who is calling?"

"Harry," I coughed, trying to get my voice to work better, "Harry Dresden, madam."

"Oh my God!" She exclaimed, "What happened? What hospital did they take her too?"

What exactly does it say about my life if, when I call the parents of my friend, they automatically assume their child is in mortal danger? More to the point, what does it say about me when that reaction is perfectly appropriate?

"Relax, Mrs. Murphy. She's fine. I'm calling for personal reasons," I said.

"Personal?" she asked, "Meaning what?"

"I have a few question to ask."

"Really?" she replied sounding… intrigued like we were sharing a secret, "Karrin said you were bit old-fashioned."

I was taken aback. Murph talks to her mom about me?

"I guess that's one word for it. Murph usually just says 'Dresden, you're a pig.'"

Momma Murphy humphed, "Typical."

"Actually I had some questions about Karrin's childhood."

"Childhood?"

"Yes, what was she like? Did she have any enemies? Her friends?" I continued.

"Mr. Dresden, I saw you with my daughter. You two are close. Why can't ask her yourself?" she asked.

This is one of those times where being a wizard sucks. I can't exactly say I looked into your daughter's soul and saw a bruised girl while in a self-induced trance. It just wouldn't work. But I didn't want to lie to her either.

I finally settled on, "The last time we were talked, I accidently hit a sore spot. She won't talk to me."

"Sound like my daughter. Was she crying?"

"I don't know. She left before I could get a good look," I said.

"She was crying," Mrs. Murphy sighed, "My daughter hates being vulnerable. Even when it's justified. When my husband … passed. She cried once at the funeral, fighting it the whole time. Trying to be like the cops that had attended, I think."

Murphy's father committed suicide when she was 11. I suppose that could justify the little girl I saw. Soulgazes were mostly metaphor anyway, but it didn't feel right. Murph told me about her dad years ago and I couldn't see her reacting the way she did if that's what she thought I saw inside her.

"Were there any other events or changes that happened around that time?" I asked.

She sighed, "Honestly, I couldn't tell you. You have to understand, I had just lost my husband and was thrust into single motherhood with 4 children. The pension helped, but I wasn't in a good place."

"I'm sorry," I said lamely. _Way to go, Harry_, I thought, _Making two women cry in a week. You're all heart. _

"It's been over twenty years. You'd think I'd be better than this," she muttered, making the similarities between her and Karrin a little more obvious.

"Grief doesn't understand time. Believe me, I know. There's no shame in missing someone you loved," I replied.

Mrs. Murphy was quiet for a minute. The sound of her breathing over the phone was my only clue we hadn't disconnected.

"Aikido," she said finally.

"Huh?"

"After Colin, Karrin become…focused. Aikido, school, taking care of her brothers and sister. Anything she could excel in, she did," Mrs. Murphy paused for breath, "At the time, I was grateful. She took some weight off of me, but it was unfair. She stopped being a kid and was more like a second mother to her siblings."

"Wow." I said, in awe of the kid that was Karrin Murphy.

I hadn't really thought about the full effect on the family and Murphy's role in it. When my parents died, I didn't have family and was responsible only for myself. No wonder she's a good cop, she's been looking out for people since puberty.

"Mr. Dresden," she started.

"Harry," I interrupted her.

"Harry, my daughter's not weak," she said.

I smiled, "Trust me, I know."

"But she's not invincible either. Look after her?"

"I will," I said and looked into the fireplace in my living room.

"I swear on my power, I will," I finished.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry this is so short, but my plot bunnies have gone off to enjoy the sun. Hopefully they will come back after they have eaten. Anyway, enjoy the mini chappie. And stick with me. BTW, I'm going to London! -OMA

Murphy has been apart of my life for so long that to definite what she is to me is nearly impossible. Friend is not quite strong enough for all of the things we've been through together, but we have never crossed the line to something more. The moment I swore on my power to protect her, whatever I felt for her became more intense. The complicated bond that is our relationship seemed to pulse with a power that I had never felt before and then faded.

If a wizard breaks his promise, it can backfire on him tenfold and his own power can turn against him. Trust me, it hurts like hell. If I ended up breaking the promise I made to Murphy's mother, I deserved every single ounce of pain that came my way.

I needed some time to calm down and process the information that I had learned. I grabbed Mouse's leash and he patiently padded across the apartment to the door without asking any questions. Yes, I know he's dog, but he can be pretty damn inquisitive when he wants to be.

As I took Mouse for his walk, I tried to push Murphy from my mind. I wasn't going to learn anything from her anytime soon. I touched the pentacle that hung around my neck and my thoughts began to reform. Mom, The Gatekeeper, Know thyself. I ran through the things that still could be done to prepare for whatever The Gatekeeper saw coming my way. There was my typical call list, ParaNet, Morty, Michael, Father Forthill, the Archive, but it didn't feel right. If self-knowledge was the key to figuring this out then chances were that this case was personal and closer to home than usual.

My list of people to go to for information shifted in my mind. I liked it a whole lot less. When to comes to my mother, even people that like me, can barely say a pleasant thing about her. Do they respect her? Yes, to an extent. But no one ever says, "Your mom saved my life" or "Your mother was a good person at heart." It's mostly something like she was powerful, cocky, stupid and the apple doesn't fall to far from the tree. Still when I think of her, I see the woman who wanted her sons to love and protect each other, I picture the woman that my father described and I think of a woman who I know loved me even though we never really met.

I rounded the corner, holding her image in mind, when I saw another Margaret sitting on the stairs leading to my apartment. Mouse sped up to greet her. She gave the dogosaurus some much-needed attention and then she looked up at me expectantly.

"Hey, boss, you gonna let me in?" Molly asked.

Looking down at her, I had the difficult task of looking at her eyes without staring at her chest. Molly had the kind of looks that brings men to their knees when she tried and causes car crashes when she doesn't. While the effect was lost on me a bit because I've known her since she was in pigtails, low-cut tops still make my job as her mentor slightly more difficult.

"Not today, grasshopper," I said.

She raised her eyebrows at me, "What is it this time?"

"I really don't know," I replied and laid it out for her, excluding what I saw in Murphy's soulgaze. Whatever I had seen wasn't my secret to tell.

"Why didn't you ask me?" she questioned, "We've soulgazed before."

"True, but I wanted a fresh perspective and frankly, your feelings could have clouded what you saw" I finished.

Hurt flicked over Molly's eyes for a second and I kicked myself for it. Today was just not a good day. Molly stood up, making my 6 feet a little less imposing as looked at me directly in the eye.

"Oh," she said and leaned back on her heels.

"Well, I'm older now and little more experienced. Would you like to know what I think I saw… now that my _feelings_ aren't in the way?" she asked tersely.

Why did it sound like she asked whether I would like arsenic or cyanide with my coffee?

"Sure," I said finally.

"Fire," she replied without emphasis, "You, as a little boy, surrounded by fire."


	4. Chapter 4

"Well, I'm older now and little more experienced. Would you like to know what I think I saw… now that my _feelings_ aren't in the way?" she asked tersely.

Why did it sound like she asked whether I would like arsenic or cyanide with my coffee?

"Sure," I said finally.

"Fire," she replied without emphasis, "You, as a little boy, surrounded by fire."

* * *

Damn, that's an image. Although, I had expected something a little more horrific. Fire and Brimstone, one of the horsemen of the Apocalypse, You know something truly epic. This was symbolic, but not quite the big-budget horror movie I was expecting.

"Anything else?" I asked, "Anything…darker?"

Molly looked at me quizzically, "Darker? You mean black magic?"

"No. I mean darkness, evil. Anything that scared you," I stated as nonchalantly as I could. I didn't want to pressure the girl into remembering anything traumatic.

Molly's eyes softened, "You're not a monster, boss. Crazy sometimes, but not evil."

I smiled, "Thanks for the vote of confidence, grasshopper, but we all have our dark sides. Mine tends to be close the surface."

Molly shifted her weight, drawing her eyes to the floor, "Is that what you saw in me?"

She asked me that question with such shy innocence that I couldn't help, but be reminded about how young she was. She trusted my judgment and pleaded, with a quivering voice, for me to tell her that she was good. When Molly first came into her powers, she practiced some very black magic, with good intentions, but black none the less. One of her victims is a permanent resident of a mental institution and the other, while recovered, carries the some mental scars of a psychic attack. I saved Molly from a guaranteed execution by the White Council through some creative maneuvering, strategic posturing and dumb luck. The end result was that I convinced members of the White Council that Molly could be saved and that black magic hadn't consumed her. They, in turn, appointed her my apprentice and put us both on wizard probation, which basically means if either one of us screws up and go the dark side, we both die.

Black magic twists a person's psyche until they aren't human anymore. They are just a vessel for evil to manifest. I had soulgazed Molly before I took her to the White Council to make sure she wasn't too far gone. I had never told her what I saw, but being that I was asking, it seemed only far that she got the same in return.

"I saw possibilities," I said, "When I soulgazed you, I was looking to see if you could be saved. I needed to know the truth about what black magic had done to you."

I watched as a some of the innocence fell from Molly's eyes and she looked at me with a certain clarity.

"You would have turned me in," she stated without question.

I didn't say anything.

She tilted her head to the side, "If you thought I had turned completely, you would have let me die."

I swallowed.

"Yes," I replied, hating the truth as it came out of my mouth. Molly was growing up. She could handle it. But that fact didn't make my guilt taste any less bitter.

"If you had already been corrupted by black magic—" I started.

She cut me off with gentle raise of her hand, "I know. It's just hard to hear."

She gave me a little shrug while averting her eyes.

"That's a cold decision, boss, to kill someone you know and care about for the greater good. Understandable, but cold, " she finished.

I didn't know what was scarier, that Molly was talking about her own death so calmly or that the picture that she painted of me looked a lot more like Morgan than I would have liked.

She let out a harsh laugh, "Honestly, I didn't think you had it in you."

She flipped her blond hair back and ran her fingers through it, "No, I didn't see it."

She looked me in the eye, "Whatever darkness you carry, I missed."

She took a breath, "What I did see was your pain, your loneliness, but mostly I saw your need to love with everything you've got and to be loved in the same way."

When she finished, there was a gentleness in her voice and look in her eye that I recognized. It wasn't the look of a lovesick teenager. It was a expression that every woman who has ever truly cared about me, has given me at one point or another. They look at me like _I_ am the one that need to be protected. Like they know something I don't. I am over 6 feet, one of the top 50 most powerful wizards on the planet and I have a dog that even the Denerians are scared, who likes to eat off my floor. You'd think that would be enough for people to believe I can take care of myself. Apparently not.

Women, go figure.

But Molly had been more honest with me than I had expected. She has more than earned the respect that deserved.

"Thanks, Molly," I said.

"Your welcome. Call me if you need anything," she said and walked to her car.

"Wait," I called after her. She turned to me.

"You're not going fight me on this?" I asked, surprised.

She looked at me thoughtfully, "Something tells me, you need to be alone. I can understand that. Good luck."

I nodded to her and watched her drive away. She had changed so much since she first became my appreciate. She would soon be ready to become a full wizard, but more importantly she was really coming into her own as an adult. It made me feel old, but I couldn't dwell on it too long. I had some major wizarding to do.

I took Mouse downstairs, disabled my wards and entered my apartment. I was immediately struck by the sight before me that illuminated by candlelight. I blinked.

"Hi, Murph."


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Not making money. I work for reviews and Pocky.

I took Mouse downstairs, disabled my wards and entered my apartment. The sight before me, illuminated by candlelight, immediately took me by surprise. I blinked.

"Hi, Murph."

Murphy looked up at me. Her shoulder visibly relaxed as she saw me walk through the door. Her eyes were still hard, letting me know that she was all business and I know better than to comment on the slight redness that was in her eyes. She stared at me and then quickly looked away. I sighed.

"You don't have to do that," I said and watched as Mouse made his way over to her. She wasn't going to pet him, but with a little doggie begging, she relented and scratched the top of his head. Mouse is good with people like that.

"A soulgaze only happens once," I informed her as I approached. She continued petting Mouse.

"After that" I continued and sat in the chair across from her, "You can look into my eyes like anyone else."

Her eyebrow went up in minute interest.

"Good to know," she replied. She took a breath and looked up into my face, still avoiding my eyes.

"I shouldn't have ran out like that," she said, "It was childish."

"Listen, soulgazes—"

She cut me off.

"You needed me. I let you down. End of story. I'm here to make it right," she stated, not giving me an inch to do anything but accept what she was offering. It wasn't an apology. Murphy doesn't do apologies. An explanation would have been nice, but sometimes Murphy doesn't do that either… Not that I'm a saint in that department either.

"So what did you see?" I asked.

Murphy closed her eyes, "I was in a barn. It smelled of hay and fresh earth. It was warm, but filled to the top with things. Memories, pictures, those things that you collect in a lifetime, good and bad."

"What do you mean bad?"

"Some of the wood had cracked or warped. Holes were in different parts of the barn. I think it was from times when you compromised yourself."

I narrowed my eyebrows together, "What makes you think that?"

Murphy shrugged, "I just do."

She leaned toward me.

"You hold your principles really close to you, Harry. It's easy to tell when you fall apart a little," she stated with a gentle voice I didn't quite understand.

I gave her a small sideways smile, "I didn't think I was that transparent."

"To me, you are," she said, finally looking into my eyes. She stared for a minute. I let her and it gave me the chance to study her a bit.

I've seen beyond Murphy exterior with my Sight, learned how she sees herself by looking into her soul and have discovered her behaviors by being her friend, but somehow finally seeing the size, shape and depth of those aquamarine eyes that faced terror after terror with me, pushed me to fight harder and fought her own battles with a intensity that caused even Knight of the Cross to respect her made everything falling into place. The woman before me was incredible and with all her nicks and bruises, or maybe because of them… Hell's bells, she was beautiful.

Murphy jerked away like she had been shocked. I looked at her and mentally smacked myself upside the head.

"Shit," I cursed, "I said that out loud?"

She gave me a nervous nod. I swallowed and leaned back in my chair.

"Aaaa…So… what else did you see?"

She breathed a sigh of relief.

"I walked outside of the barn," she continued, "And saw you, about sixteen, guarding the barn with a wall of fire. You were protecting it."

She looked at the ground, "And me."

"There were pictures of me, Susan, Thomas, Elaine, The Carpenters and others in a circle around your feet."

When I do ritual magic, there is a part of the ritual that represents myself, specifically the unity of my mind, heart and soul. I use pictures of all the people Murphy named to represent my heart plus pictures of my mom and dad.

"Protecting you all from what?" I asked.

Murphy shook her head, "I don't know."

"There was darkness beyond the fire, but I don't know what was in it. I couldn't see beyond the flames and then it was over," she finished.

"The fire is a shield," I said mostly to myself, "Do you remember what color it was?"

Murphy closed her eyes in remembrance, "Blue. White and blue," she stated.

Soulfire. I was protecting those I love from what was inside me with soulfire. So the question was, what was so scary? And somehow, I didn't think it was a coincidence that the internal me was the same age I was when I fought Justin and He Who Walks Behind.

"Harry?" Murph asked, bringing me out of my thoughts.

"Thanks, Murph," I said, "That's really helps."

"Really?"

I smiled, "Yeah, you're always helpful."

She took my hand.

"You know I'm always here if you need anything," she said, squeezed my hand and got up to leave.

"Karrin?" I called as she got to the door. She turned slowly, hearing her first name. I looked up at her.

"Why'd you come back? I mean, you were royally pissed when you left and…"

Murphy looked down at the ground, let out a breath and then grabbed the amulet that I had given her to pass through my wards. She lifted it up.

"Fifteen minutes ago, this thing glowed like a lighthouse. I got worried that something happened to you. If you had been hurt or killed because I ran out of here… because I was too…" she fought herself to get the next words out, "weak to handle my past, I could never forgive myself."

I wanted to hug her. I wanted to hold her and tell her she had nothing to be ashamed of. But that's not how we do things. When Murphy cries, I turn away quickly so she can pretend that I can't see her tears. I can count on one hand how many times Murphy has allowed herself to be vulnerable with me. I count myself as lucky because while it's rare, it does happen and Karrin doesn't let her guard down easily.

"I'm fine, Murph," I said lamely. I suck at words.

Murph rolled her eyes, "I know that now, you jerk."

She shook her head, "Anyway, I've got to go. I'm meeting my mom for dinner."

This just keeps getting better.

"Tell her I said, 'Hi'." I stated.

She smiled at me, "Will do." She left.

I looked at my dog.

"Shit's about to hit the fan, isn't it?" I asked.

"Rooaaw," Mouse said in agreement.


	6. Chapter 6

Instead of waiting for Murphy to come back to kick my ass, I decided to get some work done. I couldn't put off the inevitable, but I could be productive in the meantime. I marched down the subbasement with the dogasaurus on my heels.

"Hey, Bob. Wake up, lazybones," I announced as I went downstairs.

"Harry," Bob practically growled with his non-existent throat, "I'm in the middle of something."

"What?" I asked.

"Two Icelandic twins and Marshall's quivering member," he said with a giddiness that could only be described as obscene. I almost tripped on the last step. I really should be used to this by now, but sometimes, Bob still managed to surprise me.

"This is not the time for an orgy. We got to get to work," I stated.

Bob sighed. His eyelights finally started flickering inside his skull.

"Have I taught you nothing, Harry? There's always time for an orgy," he replied patiently.

"Focus, Bob."

"What is it this time? Trolls, Fairies, Runaway Unicorns?"

"No, I don't plan on getting skewered anytime soon, but thank you for bringing up such a painful memory," I replied with equal snark.

"No one ever _plans _to get run through by a unicorn horn, but that happens to you anyway. Best to remain prepared," Bob replied.

I gathered a few old books and put them on my desk, "Noted."

"Now, if that's all for today, I have…"

"Not so fast, skullbrain. I need your take on this," I said and filled him in on the events of that day. It took longer than expected, mostly due to his insistence on a precise description on what Murphy and Molly were wearing that day.

"A motorcycle vixen and a naughty schoolgirl all in one day. My, what a charmed life you lead, Harry," Bob stated wistfully.

"Bob," I snapped, coming to the end of my patience.

"Alright, alright. All work and no lay makes you a very cranky boy," Bob commented.

"Bob, I swear I will replace all of your books with the entire Twilight series… in multiple languages."

Bob's eyelights narrowed at me, "You wouldn't dare."

I smiled at him.

"All the glow-in-the-dark vampires and teenage angst you could handle."

"You're an evil man, Harry Dresden," he replied.

I stepped back, "Am I really?"

"For threatening me with Stephanie Meyer novels, definitely. In a more general sense though, I suppose not. But, you know how the whole good/evil thing confuses me," he said.

"Yeah," I replied. Note: if you ever getting a lab assistant in the form a spirit of knowledge and air, never ask them for moral advice. Bob's job is to help me accomplish my goals, not necessarily tell me if it's the right thing to do.

"I need you to tell me everything you can about my mother," I said.

"Harry…" Bob replied with something bordering on concern coloring his voice, "Are you sure?"

"Listen, Bob, something's coming. Something big and it involves my mother," I said and touched at the silver pentacle hanging from my neck, "And probably some secrets I'd rather not know, but I don't think I have a choice."

Bob sighed, "I'll do my best, Harry. But your mother wasn't called Margaret Le Fay for nothing. She knew how to hide, even from the White Council."

"I guess that's one thing we don't have in common."

"Perhaps," Bob commented, "But Harry, it's not that you can't hide, you chose not to. In fact, before you became a warden, I think you liked being a pain in the ass of the White Council. You've always preferred frontal assault, your mother was more of a guerrilla warrior. Same goals, different tactics."

"What were her goals? I liked pissing off the White Council cause I don't like people trying to kill me. Especially when I didn't know better. What was her beef?" I asked.

"Her beef?" Bob commented, "My, Harry, you gotten eloquent in your old age."

I put my forehead into my hands in frustration.

"Bob," I growled.

"Your mother was a do-gooder at heart," Bob replied.

I lifted my head up, "I thought you didn't do the whole good/evil thing."

"I don't. But your mother liked making morals smile. She helped when she could and used magic, in the beginning, only on the rarest of occasions, when there was no way out," he replied.

I took a breath, "She helped people?"

"Yes."

"Then why does everyone I know give her so much bullshit?"

Bob let out a sound that similar to a huff, "Cause she helped humans, Harry. Vanilla mortals. And trust me, Harry, the White Council was even more apathetic to their problems then than they are now."

"So what happened?" I asked.

"She got angry. Everyone, including Ebenezar, thought she was wasting her gifts. She was apprentice of Blackstaff, and she was using her magic to help town build wells or fugitives to escape war. She also saw how magic was being used to harm moral, but as long as they stayed with in the laws of magic, they were never punished."

My fingers traced over my mother's shield bracelet, "And that's when she started making demands of the White Council."

"Yes, she even called The Merlin a yellow bellied coward," Bob recalled.

I laughed. Go Mom!

"I bet Ebenezar loved that," I said and then looked at Bob a little more closely.

"You know a lot about my mother," I said.

Bob sighed, "I'm a spirit of knowledge. That's what I do. I know things."

I got up, "Yeah, but this is different. It's not like you going through archives. You sound like you were there. Like you saw this happening."

"Not exactly."

"Than what?"

"Harry—"

"What aren't you telling me, Bob?" I asked.

"She never was involved. She never said yes," Bob started.

"Spit it out," I said, losing some of my patience.

"Kemmler had me follow her over a quarter century. She was strong and rebellious. He thought she's make a good disciple. Especially with her problems with the White Council," he said.

Bob paused and then continued, "After Kemmler was killed the last time in '61, Justin learned about Kemmler's interest in her and tried to… woo her."

I throw up in my mouth a bit.

"Woo?"

"Yes, Harry. But your mother rejected him and just like Kemmler, Justin tried to get me to follow her."

"Tried? You couldn't?" I asked.

"Your mother was often in the Nevernever. And had taken up with Lord Raith," Bob stated, "Justin's watch was vigilant, if distant. Enough to know when you were born and when your power manifested."

"What else?" I asked, though I wasn't sure I could take anymore.

"Nothing that you don't already know," Bob replied.

I scratched my head, "What about me? My birth?"

"I know what you know."

"But there has to be something. I know my mother died cause of Raith's entropy curse, but there's more to it. I know it," I said with a conviction that surprised even me.

"Then you know more than I, Harry Dresden. If you want to know more about your birth, you should talk to your mother's midwife."

That wasn't a bad idea. Wizards can't go to hospitals. Our powers make modern technology go BOOM. So in order to make sure a wizard doesn't cut off someone's oxygen, when a female wizard gives birth, it's often at Edinburgh where Wizard McQuean serves as the midwife. She's been doing for at least 300 years, last I heard. She might have even midwifed The Merlin, back when he was just Arthur Langtry.

"Maybe, but going to Edinburgh would just be annoying," I said.

"Edinburgh?" Bob asked and then coughed, "Harry, I thought you knew."

I raised my eyebrows, "Knew what?"

Bob said the next words slowly, like he was worried about revealing this bit of info, "You weren't born in Edinburgh. Your mother gave birth while in the Nevernever."

I coughed and tried to take this in.

"Then who was the midwife?" I asked.

Bob said softly, "You tell me."

I thought and the answer was obvious. The midwife, the one who helped give birth to me, was the second-strongest figure in the Winter Court of the Fae, Leanansidhe. My godmother.


End file.
